spokesman, modestly. "We four have been comrades for several years and we hate to separate now. We were sponge fishing out of Tarpon Springs but we lost our schooner through trouble with our crew. We saved only the clothes on our backs. We have to get something to do right off. Fishing seems to be the only thing in this part of the state that we would be able to work at and keep together. We heard of you, sir, in Tarpon Springs. We arrived here at Clearwater this morning. In fact, we came here direct from the station."

There was a curious gleam in Mr. Daniels' eye as he listened to this terse, business-like explanation. "What kind of work have you done besides sponging?" he questioned.

"We have been kind of Jack-Of-All-Trades," smiled the lad. "We have raised truck on the East Coast, fished for pearls in the West Indies, hunted plume birds in the Everglades, and gathered wreckage on the Atlantic beaches."

"Your names?" demanded Mr. Daniels, eagerly.

"My name is Charley West, sir. This is my chum, Walter Hazard; this gentleman is our good friend, Captain Westfield, and this," indicating the little negro with a smiling nod, "is Mr. Christopher Columbus."

"I suspected it," exclaimed Mr. Daniels. "You are the boy chums whose adventures have been told in several books. I have a boy at home who has them all. He has made me read them over to him 'til I know them by heart."

Charley blushed, much embarrassed. "I am afraid the writer has made too much of our little adventures," he said, modestly. "We had no idea he was an author when he got us talking about our trips or we would not have talked so freely."

"Well, he speaks well of the boy-chums," smiled Mr. Daniels, "and I am going to take his recommendation. As I have already said, I do not often engage green men but I am going to give you four a chance. But before you decide to go into it, I want you to understand that this fishing business is no picnic."

"We do not expect it to be any picnic," replied Charley, quietly.

"In the first place, it is dangerous," Mr. Daniels continued. "Besides the risk from storms and accidents, there are dangers from fish and sea reptiles. Then, too, there are often troubles with other fishermen. As a class, fishermen are rough and lawless. In my position, with hundreds of men working for me, it would ruin my business to take sides with any one man or set of men in my employ. They must settle their quarrels among themselves. As the old saying goes, 'Every tub must stand on its own bottom.'"

"We will be careful and keep out of trouble," Walter assured him.

"One can not always avoid it," Mr. Daniels replied. "In addition to the drawbacks I have mentioned, fishing is extremely hard, trying, nasty work, although I will say that it seems a wonderfully healthy occupation. Fishermen are seldom sick."

"Does it pay?" Captain Westfield inquired.

"That depends largely upon the fisherman. Of course, there is an element of luck in fishing. Experience counts for something, too, but in the main, as in everything else, it is the amount of work that decides success or failure. Some of my men make as high as two hundred dollars a week, others hardly make a living."

Charley glanced inquiringly at his comrades who answered with nods.

"We will try it, if you please," he said, quietly.

"All right," replied Mr. Daniels, briskly. "You shall have just the same outfit I furnish the rest of my men. Four nets,—that is, one for each of you,—three skiffs, and a motor boat. I furnish the motor boat and the skiffs free, but you are expected to keep them up in good shape and to buy your own gasoline and oils. As for the nets, I sell them to you at cost, I take out one-third of your fish until they are paid for."

"That seems a very liberal arrangement," Charley observed.

"I have to do it in order to get enough fish to keep my customers supplied. Now, as to shelter, you will have to have a place to stay. Out on the long wharf that runs out into the bay, you will find a number of little houses which belong to me. You can use any one of them that is not already occupied."

"You are very kind," said Charley.

"Not at all. Now, one thing more. Are you supplied with money?"

"We saved nothing from our schooner but the clothes we had on," Charley admitted.

"Then I will tell Mr. Bacon, the store-keeper, to let you have what groceries and clothing you need until you get to earning. Oh! by the way, I forgot to ask you if you can run a motor boat?"

"We have never run one, but we could soon learn."

"Well, I'll send a man down with your nets this afternoon and have him show you the boats that you will use and also give you a lesson in running the engine. You'll soon catch on to it—it's simple. And now," he concluded, "that, I believe, finishes our business arrangements and now I have a favor to ask of you."

"After your kindness, we would do anything in our power," Charley promised, gratefully but rashly.

"Good! I want all four of you to come up to dinner with me. That boy of mine would give me fits if I let the Boy Chums get away from me without him meeting them."

Our little party of chums were too modest to relish the idea of a dinner under such conditions; but, after Mr. Daniels' kindness to them, they could not do other than accept the proffered invitation much as they would have liked to refuse.

CHAPTER II.
GETTING SETTLED.

The dinner proved less embarrassing than the little band of adventurers had feared. To be sure Mr. Daniels' son, a sturdy little lad of eight, stared at them constantly with wide-eyed hero worship and plied them with an army of questions about their adventures; but the boys, who detested talking of their exploits, skillfully directed his questions to Chris and the vain little darkey, glad of the chance to brag, entertained the little lad with wonderful yarns of their adventures, in all of which he made himself out the hero. Mrs. Daniels proved to be a nice, motherly, little lady who quickly made them all feel at their ease, while Mr. Daniels exerted himself to make the meal pleasant for them. As soon as they decently could, however, the four took their departure, for they were anxious to see something of the little town and to get settled in their new home.

"Let's go down to the wharf first of all," Walter proposed as soon as they were out on the street. "We want to pick out our house the first thing we do."

There was but one main street to the little town and a question put to a passer-by got the information that it led down to the wharf.

A few minutes' walk brought them past the straggling row of stores that comprised the town's business center. Just beyond these the four stopped to gaze around in admiration and delight.

"My! It's beautiful!" Charley exclaimed.

"A regular Paradise," Walter agreed.

Before them stretched a wide street of snow white lime rock, overhung by gigantic live oak and magnolia trees. Back a little ways from the street nestled houses almost lost 'mid trees and flowers. Between them and the sidewalks were gardens blazing with a mad riot of color. The rich yellow of alamandas mingled with the deep purple of Chinese paper flowers and the warm blue of Lady Alices. Here and there stood Royal Poinciana trees and a vivid blaze of scarlet. Great flowered cacti reared their thorny forms high in the air and delicate lace-like ferns grew all around. In and out amongst the blaze of color flitted gorgeous-hued tropical birds